Colored Ink
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miss something? check the archives about me name: n/aaliases: kit (and various iterations thereof) age: 21 location: oakland, ca hobbies: anime, manga, comic books, reading, writing, doodling, video games likes: all of the above, being lazy, mushrooms, animals, food, laughing loudly in public, SUSHI dislikes: nuts, stinging/biting insects, religious fanatics, violence, olives contact: coloredink(at)gmail.com wishlist playstation 2car a good night's sleep money stress-free life trigun long colt keychain hardon-kardon speakers 19" flatscreen monitor world peace realistic wishlist transmetropolitan vol 5-7, 9-10long-term obsessions comicsslash writing music animals life and living current obsession(s) supernaturalhouse m.d. currently reading jonathan strange and mr norrell by susanna clarkecurrently watching smallville (3.4)farscape (1.) stargate: atlantis (1.7) scrubs (2.1) hana yori dango (20) utena (23) witch hunter robin (18) rose of versailles (19) matantei loki ragnarok (15) scrapped princess (14) sailormoon live action (25) supernatural (1.13) house md (2.15) |
Wednesday, May 3, 2006 [link] 12:05 p.m. listening to: the radio in German The weather has been sunny and pleasantly cool. I stroll under the linden trees--there are so many trees in Berlin!--purchase a sandwich for two euros, and eat it in one of the many green spaces scattered throughout the city (after the bombings, many destroyed places were not rebuilt but merely paved over and turned into parks; what better way to turn ruin into beauty?). There is gravedlachs at the grocery for three euros. I am thinking of buying some. I love Berlin. I am in love with Berlin. It is so inexpensive, so easy to get around in, so friendly, so beautiful. There is so much history and modernity here, guilt turned into progress. I was afraid, at first, that perhaps I'd romanticised Berlin. It was sandwiched between two cities that Eleanor and I did not particularly care for: Rome and Barcelona (they are nice enough cities, in their ways, but we didn't love them). Perhaps it was just compared to its travel neighbors that Berlin rose like a gleaming jewel of awesome. I am relieved to report that this is not the case. Berlin is awesome all by itself. Monday, May 1, 2006 [link] 05:42 p.m. listening to: nothing It's the first of May, outdoor fucking starts today. . . Ugh, German keyboards threaten to drive me insane. They're not quite as bad as French keyboards, which really take the cake in "just how far away from QWERTY can we possibly get?", but the Germans come quite close. It's frustrating when you're at an Internet cafe because you're very aware that every second you spend correcting a typo or hunting for the question mark is precious money. Amsterdam was great. In my haste to finish that last entry, however, I neglected to mention just why shrooms are superior to pot. Besides the great high and the visuals, you don't really crash. Unlike pot, which tends to knock you out after a few hours (at least in my case and my acquaintances), you just keep on tripping with shrooms. Best of all, you don't have to wait to come down on shrooms; if you're tired of tripping, you just eat something. Whereas on pot, you're high until you conk out and wake up the next morning. So, yeah. Shrooms are pretty awesome. I'm in Berlin now, in case you didn't gather that from my rambling about German keyboards. I'm staying at a nice, clean, inexpensive little hostel not too far away from the Zoologischer Garten and quite close to the U-bahn, which is very convenient. There's a kitchen and some shops nearby, which will be very convenient when it's not a public holiday. I keep showing up in countries during their holidays, which is nice when it's a big party like Carnevale in Venice and Queensday in Amsterdam, but in Germany it's May Day, which is basically like the American Labor Day. Nothing is open and the streets are empty. I had trouble finding food earlier, which was very problematic as I hadn't eaten anything even slightly of substance since 6am. It was a 10 hour bus ride from Amsterdam to Berlin, one of the most painful rides I've ever endured. I'd say it was worse than that 11 hour train ride from Barcelona to Granada. The bus was damned uncomfortable and I couldn't sleep a wink. I managed to fall asleep for about half an hour to an hour around 2 am, then woke up and remained awake until well after sunrise. I managed to fall asleep for another hour or two around 7 or 8am, after half the bus disembarked at Dresden. Sunrise was gorgeous, though. We'd just left Dresden and were traveling through miles of beautiful green German countryside, heading generally east, so it was like the sky brightened ahead of us as we came. I stared out the window at the luminous egg yolk of the sun lighting the underbellies of the clouds, the sky blue above it and pink below, and thought that even though I was so exhausted I could cry, even though I missed home and family and friends so much that it was like a persistent ache behind the eyes, even though I couldn't feel my knees--still, it was good to be alive and here, seeing this. Yes, yes, yes. Sunday, April 30, 2006 [link] 08:33 p.m. listening to: whatever the hostel's playing I've been debating for a while whether or not to blog about my shroom experiences, seeing as how it's generally not advisable to blog about doing drugs on a public website where people can ostensibly find out where you live, work, etc. Then it occurred to me that I'm in Amsterdam, where doing shrooms is perfectly legal and in fact extremely affordable. So it's not like I could get into trouble with any authorities or anything. Shrooms are pretty fucking cool. I think they'd be my drug of choice if there were any legal way of getting them in the States. I've only tried Mexican shrooms, which are the weaksauce shrooms "recommended for first-time trippers," and I probably don't want to go any more hardcore than that, at least for the first few trips. They make you high, not unlike pot, except that you also see things, sort of. You don't hallucinate hardcore or anything, it's just that if you, say, stare at the ceiling it starts to do things. Like melt. Or pulsate. Or form interesting patterns. And going to the bathroom--especially this hostel bathroom, which is yellow tile and kind of vile-seeming at the best of times--is suddenly a new and exciting adventure. Then the next morning you wake up and stare at the ceiling and go, "Huh, the ceiling was way more interesting last night." You go to the bathroom and don't get distracted by where your pee goes. I discovered today that you can legally do liquid xtc here, too, and it made me furious that I hadn't noticed it and tried it earlier. Then again, thére's no way I could have finished that entire bottle by myself, I think, and I'm too much of a wuss to try and smuggle drugs out of the country. Getting arrested upon my arrival to the United States is not high on my list of priorities. Saturday, April 29, 2006 [link] 06:18 p.m. listening to: more dance music courtesy of the hostel no. of times got caught in Dutch mosh pit 1 (v.g.) no. of times witnessed indecent exposure 2 (bad) no. of times had beer spilled on me 1 (excellent) no. of times stepped on bottle and nearly died: way too many times for comfort Oh my God, I don't think I've done so much walking since that time Eleanor and I walked across central Rome. Ow, my legs. What should have been maybe a half an hour walk to the Van Gogh museum turned into a nearly two hour adventure as 1) the streets were so crowded that foot traffic at times turned into a leisurely crawl and 2) I got horribly, horribly lost a few times, which resulted into my running into a number of really excellent concerts/DJs. I love European music. They do electronica/techno right here. I have a shameful secret to confess: I do not really care for Van Gogh that much. In a sense, I am rather angry about paying €10 to see some works I don't particularly care for. I thought that maybe if I saw enough of his work I'd appreciate it more, but no: I just don't like Impressionism (or anything that smacks of Impressionism). I am forever a Renaissance and Baroque art fan. Speaking of which, the Van Gogh museum also housed a special exhibit of Caravaggios and Rembrandts that was really impressive. Rembrandt I admire, but Caravaggio I adore. Oh God, I think Italy's turned me into an art snob. And now, back to my room for a quick lie-down. I expect there will be more partying tonight, and I want to be fresh for it. Saturday, April 29, 2006 [link] 11:52 a.m. listening to: some more dance music courtesy of the hostel They were playing Shakira earlier. That was awesome. Shakira is hot. Also, man, Amsterdam. . . . yeah. Friday, April 28, 2006 [link] 06:40 p.m. listening to: random dance music Ugh. Having kind of a rough time of it in Amsterdam. I spent most of today sleeping, which wouldn't have been so bad if tomorrow weren't a public holiday. Turns out tomorrow's Queensday--which makes today Queensnight--and there's gonna be some crazy partying and shit going on. This is kind of awesome except this makes me worried that the museums will be closed tomorrow, and who the hell leaves Amsterdam without seeing the Van Gogh Museum? I'm trying to decide if I should hit up the museum tonight; it's open until 10pm on Fridays, and if I leave right after my computer time expires (it's €1 per half hour, there's no way I'm leaving before my time's up) I should be able to get there around 7:30 pm. But is a couple of hours really enough to see the Van Gogh Museum? I really don't want to rush it, especially with a €10 entry fee. Gah. I wonder if the Van Gogh museum is open on Sunday. Wednesday, April 26, 2006 [link] 10:57 a.m. listening to: Well, today's my last day in this room. Tomorrow afternoon I'll be off for Amsterdam, and a few days after that I'll be in Berlin. And then, on May 5, I'm going--coming--home. I'm so scared. Hold me. Friday, April 21, 2006 [link] 04:19 a.m. listening to: nothing Mrrrf. Sleepy. I want to take a nap, but if I take a nap I know I won't be able to get to sleep later tonight. Naps fuck me up hardcore. Yesterday was my last day of work at my internship. D: It actually made me quite sad, because I've grown to really love working there and really liked my coworkers. We had a nice staff lunch at a very nice Thai restaurant and they gave me a card that everyone signed and everything. It was really sweet. I'm going to miss them. I had plans to go to Westminster, but. . . er, fuck that. I'll go tomorrow. I'm too tired. So today I'll do laundry and go to the Science Museum (I originally had the Science Museum planned for tomorrow). And pack. This might fuck me up a little bit, since I'd actually planned to go to the post office and start shipping things tomorrow, but I'll work it out. I can ship things on Monday and Tuesday, too. Monday, April 17, 2006 [link] 09:21 p.m. listening to: Great Big Sea No. of times I nearly burst into tears today: 1 (excellent) Whatever it was, I seem to be getting over it--a little, at least. Maybe it was just the long weekend stretching ahead of me, filled with nothing but isolation. In retrospect, though, it was bizarre and a little terrifying. I think I felt myself falling apart at one point. I can't even describe it; it felt like the space between my eyes was widening. Nothing had perspective, like whatever it was had affected my eyesight, too. If that ever happens again I'll find someone to talk to, whether it be a chaplain, a counselor or a random person down the street. I can't believe I didn't think anything was wrong. Anyway, this weekend has been busybusybusy. On Friday I went to the National Gallery, and on Saturday I visited St Paul's Cathedral, the Tate Modern, and Old Bailey. I wanted to try and hit up the Tate Britain, but I wasn't sure if it was worth it to take a twenty minute boat ride that cost £3 to spend an hour inside the museum itself. So I went to see the Old Bailey instead, which was surprisingly plain-looking. Very imposing and grey, though. I sat on the steps to get out of the rain and drank a Marks & Spencer smoothie, reflecting that this was somehow what my life had become. Then I saw Blue Man Group, which was amazing. I may have blogged about that already. There's really nothing more to say. I could describe the show, but anyone who's seen the show already knows, and anyone who hasn't won't care. So, I'll just say: it was awesome. I meant to go to Easter service yesterday, but decided that I would rather sleep in instead. God wants me to get sleep, I'm sure. Hmmm, what else did I do yesterday? Laundry, I know. I know I did something else, but I can't recall what. Er. I know I got on the Tube and went somewhere. Did I? Oh gosh. Maybe I just relaxed at home. Why can't I remember? What is wrong with me? Today, I went to the British Museum. I was a bit anxious at first, as this was only the second time I'd ever been there, and I knew that you can't get through the British Museum in one go. If you try, you don't really enjoy it. So I decided to just pace myself and stop and savour anything I really wanted to see, and just walk through the rooms that didn't interest me all that much. To my pleasant surprise, I managed to get through most of the museum (although Lindow Man, whom I really wanted to see, was in a part of the museum that'll be shut off until next year). Next weekend will be Westminster and some idle exploration of the museums across the street from my flat. It's ridiculous that I haven't been to the Science Museum yet (although I've been to the Natural History Museum twice, as I love dinosaurs). Maybe then, if I can squeeze it in, I'll check out the Tate Britain. Sunday, April 16, 2006 [link] 07:41 p.m. listening to: mp3 player on shuffle If this were a Bridget Jones-style diary, I would begin this entry with: no of times I nearly spontaneously burst into tears today: 3 (v.g.) This is v.g. (very good) compared to yesterday, when I spent much of the morning struggling not to break into tears for no discernible reason. I was actually very close to asking to see a chaplain in St Paul's Cathedral. I don't even know why. It's just this crushing loneliness. I really wanted someone to talk to, to make some kind of human connection. Gah. I really want to go home, but I've got Amsterdam and Berlin ahead of me. Let's hope I manage to keep myself occupied so that I don't end up sobbing in the arms of a Dutch prostitute. Thursday, April 13, 2006 [link] 04:32 p.m. listening to: nothing Homesickness is like this weight in my chest. I don't miss home, precisely, but I miss my friends. This leaden feeling goes away when I'm at work or talking to Kate or someone, but Kate isn't always around and I'm not always at work. I had quite a scare regarding Amsterdam. I'm taking a boat to Amsterdam on the 27th, but it seems that Amsterdam is so bloody popular that I was completely unable to find anywhere to stay for less than thirty euros a night. Then, suddenly, something popped up on hostels.com. A place to stay! For sixteen euros a night! I pounced on it and booked it within five minutes. Then I received an email this morning: whoops, sorry, we showed up on the site by accident, your credit card has been refunded. I was crushed. I tried to find another place; there were even fewer than yesterday. I began to make contingency plans ranging from checking myself into a hotel to sleeping at the train station. I emailed them back pleading for floor or couch space, anything, so that I'm not sleeping on the street. They emailed me back saying, hey, someone cancelled. Still want that bed? YES THANK GOD YES. It's like a giant weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I am not homeless. I am not going to starve. I've booked my Berlin hostel; now all I have to do is figure out how I'm getting to Berlin. I'll probably take a train. Sunday, April 9, 2006 [link] 04:28 p.m. listening to: "Mental" - Eels This weekend has, so far, been fantastic! On Friday I went to class, did my thing, and then went to work. And by 'work' I mean I printed out some stuff for my portfolio and then hung out with my coworkers. It was Ben's last day, so there was basically no work getting done; they'd gone out to lunch (which I missed, since I had class) and then had pretty much been drinking and watching the telly ever since. I love England. Then we went to the Astor Bar & Grill for drinks, which is one of the classiest bars I've ever been in. This place is so classy that you need reservations. For the bar. Not the restaurant, the bar. This place is so classy that we were the only people there not in suits and professional wear. The twenty-foot ceilings and marble pillars and gigantic chandelier embody the hedonism and decadence of the 1920s. I had two Long Island Iced Teas and then staggered home. It wasn't even eight o' clock yet. Have I mentioned that I love England? Yesterday I got up early and hopped on the bus to Oxford. I snatched a baguette sandwich from somewhere once I got there and munched on it while wandering around High Street. I explored The Market (that's really all it's called) and contemplated buying chocolates. Then I went to Christ Church because who the hell goes to Oxford without seeing Christ Church. The dining hall was closed, so the fee was reduced. I saw the inside of the cathedral, which was very nice. Then I went to Blackwell's, which is one of those enormous bookstores that's bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. Afterwards, I had a choice: the Ashmolean, or the Natural History Museum. Since I saw the Natural History Museum last time I was in Oxford (albeit for only like forty minutes), I decided to head on over to the Ashmoleon. Admittedly, I don't have a particularly keen interest in antiquities, particularly after seeing so many museums last summer on the Continent. But I had a rather pleasant hour in the Ashmolean, nonetheless; the first floor, with its Western art and antiquities, was quite nice. Then I sought out the Bridge of Sighs and Turf's Tavern, which Rachel had told me about, saying it had the best cider in Oxford. I probably wouldn't have found it had two girls not emerged from the tiny crack between buildings where it's situated. After heading down a narrow alley, which broaded into a. . . slightly broader alley, I emerged at Turf's Tavern. I enjoyed a pint of Strongbow's cider (very excellent cider) and a packet of crisps, and then tottered back to the bus stop. All in all, a very productive weekend full of drinking! And now I must buckle down and work on my portfolio. Sigh. Friday, April 7, 2006 [link] 01:25 p.m. listening to: "Hymn" - Jars of Clay Gosh, I'm hungry. And it's almost been a week since I last blogged! Gah! Well, I don't really know what to say. It's almost time for me to go back to the States and I feel like I still haven't really done anything in London. I haven't seen the Rosetta Stone. I haven't even been to the National Gallery! It's time for me to be a total tourist in this city. I mean, back in January, you know, it was kind of like, "Oh, I have plenty of time!" Now it's April and I'm frantically planning what to do with my weekends. God. Whatever happened to my plans of visiting Edinburgh and Dublin? Arrrgh. I guess I'll have to find a way to get back to the UK someday. So, this weekend, I'm going to head back to Oxford, since they totally didn't give us enough time there last time. Next weekend, which is Easter weekend, I'm going to see Stonehenge, and I'll just spend the rest of the weekend being a total tourist and going to the British Museum and the National Gallery and stuff. It'll kind of suck because everything will be totally crowded (what with it being a four-day weekend and all), but at least I'll get to see something! And the weekend after I'm going to see about taking a train trip somewhere--maybe to Southend-on-Sea or something, I hear that's nice, and also I'll get to stalk Warren Ellis maybe--and the weekend after that, well, hopefully I'll be in Amsterdam or something. And then on to Berlin. Where the hell did all this time go? I felt like I haven't really done anything or been anywhere! Sunday, April 2, 2006 [link] 07:13 p.m. listening to: "Hotel California" - The Eagles I've mentioned Chen Chen once or twice here. She irritates me immensely, but for some reason she keeps calling me "friend." It makes me simultaneously furious that she lets me treat her like shit (I really do treat her like shit; I don't know why she puts up with it) and feel bad for, well, treating her like shit. But seriously, why does she put up with it? Actual conversation: Me: I just think you're here for very shallow reasons. (More on this later.) Her: Oh. **is silent for a few moments** I'm not totally shallow. I volunteered at inner-city preschools and stuff. You know, where they're really poor and the neighborhoods are really bad and everyone is black. Me: OHHHH, YOU HELPED THE POOR LITTLE DARKIES. DO YOU WANT A COOKIE? I actually said that to her. I don't know why she's still talking to me. I wouldn't talk to me if I said shit like that. She infuriates me for so many reasons. It's not that she's religious. I like and respect many people who are religious. It's not because she's conservative. I know and respect many people who are conservative. It's not because she's from Texas. I like and respect many Texans. It's just the combination of all three with such asshattery that I--I--argh. She keeps talking to me and telling me things that make me think she seeks my approval--God knows why, since I'm one of those queer Californian liberals who should stand for everything she's against--but she's never going to get it because every time she tries, my respect for her drops even more. Okay, right, I mentioned that she's here for really shallow reasons. Well, basically, she's only here for the internship. She's obsessed with getting into law school. When everyone else was in Italy or France or wherever during midsemester break, she spent the entire time studying for the LSAT. She hasn't left London at all, not even for one of those daytrips that cost you like £15 where they take you on a coach to Oxford or Windsor or whatever and you get a guided tour. For that matter, she hasn't even bothered to explore within London. She hasn't even been to the British Museum. She's starting to get smack for it at her internship; her told me her boss said, incredulously, "You haven't been to the British Museum?" and rolled her eyes in disgust. Whenever Chen Chen tells me one of these stories of her lameness she says things like, "Yeah, that's lame, huh?" or "Oh man, I'm so bad," and I say "YES" but does she do anything about it? Nooooo. Today I went to the Covent Garden Market--which was okay--and if I tell her I went without her, she's probably going to piss and moan, "Why didn't you ask me to come with you?" In which case I am going to tell her, YOU CAN GET OFF YOUR ASS AND GO YOURSELF, YOU HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING HERE AT ALL. Incredulously enough, she persists in saying things like, "I definitely want to travel more in the future." Wha? Why? You don't do anything or go anywhere when you travel! It's like going to Spain and spending the entire time in the hotel room! "Yeah, well, but, I'm here, right?" DUDE YOU COULD BE BACK IN TEXAS FOR ALL THAT IT MATTERS. If you don't even know what's down the street (and she doesn't; I had to show her the stationer's shop down there), it's the same as if you never left home! BLAAARRRG. Actual conversations with Chen Chen, in no particular order: Her: **reading the Economist blah blah blah** Muslims are terrorists. Me: . . . excuse me? Did you just say that Muslims are terrorists? Her: Yeah. Me: Okay, so, how about this: Christians are bigoted racists who think faggots should burn at the stake and doctors who kill babies should die. Her: Well, those are bad Christians. Me: And it never occurred to you that there are bad Muslims? Her: I think homosexuality is wrong. I take the Bible literally. Me: . . . do you eat shellfish? Her: What are shellfish? Oh, wait, those are like clams and stuff, right? I love oysters. Me: Well, did you know that the Bible says you're not supposed to eat shellfish? Her: Really? Why? Me: BECAUSE GOD SAYS SO. **during a conversation in which we're talking about population and its correlation with the strength of that country** Me: I mean, Japan has a huge population, but they've never really dominated the world. Her: That would be a terrible world. Me: . . . wow, that wasn't a racist statement or anything. Her: Well, it would be! **during a documentary about the billions that have disappeared into the black hole that is Iraq** Her: Oh my God, they shouldn't do that. Me: **had her back to the TV and missed everything** Huh? Her: They just showed that bit where they pulled down the statue of Saddam and replaced it with an American flag. I wish they wouldn't do that. Me: Why? Her: It makes it seem like we're conquering them. Me: **silently impressed that she's actually making sense** Her: I mean, Iwojima was different. Me: Really? Why? Her: Well, I mean, because the Japanese were bad. Me: . . . what? Her: **backtracking hastily, perhaps realising that this is not a viable argument** I mean, the Iraq War is controversial. Me: . . . and World War II wasn't? Her: But that was different then because we were right! We're wrong now! Her: I don't like people who get tattoos. I mean! That came out wrong! I mean, I don't like tattoos. Me: Okay. Why? Her: Because I'm conservative. Me: What. That's not. Uh. You don't dislike tattoos because you're conservative. That's backwards. You're conservative because you dislike tattoos. Her: Well. Um. I think tattoos are the result of peer pressure. Me: You think people get tattoos because other people want them to get tattoos? Her: Yeah. Me: . . . you've never met anyone who has a tattoo, have you? **we're channel surfing** Her: Oh, let's watch this show. Me: This? This is that soap. Her: No it's not. Me: What? It's totally a soap. **gets up to do the dishes** Her: **channel surfs some more, goes back to the aforementioned soap, where people are now breathily confessing their love for each other** Oh God, it is a soap opera. Me: Like I said. Her: It's just, I saw this commercial for it earlier, before it started, and it said they were going to change the school and stuff. Me: And you believe everything you see on TV? Her: Well, yeah. Her: I'm very pro-China on Taiwan. Me: Oh? Why? Her: Well, 95% of them are Chinese. They speak Chinese, they're culturally Chinese. They should be part of China. Me: But by that logic, the thirteen colonies should never have broken away from England. Her: But Americans, they're Scottish or Dutch or whatever. Me: They are now, yes, but back then they were pretty much all English. The colonies were English, the people were English. Even during the American Revolution they considered themselves English. If you read the Declaration of Independence you'll see that they're English citizens demanding the same rights as other English citizens. Her: But America is a young country. China has thousands of years of tradition behind it! Me: . . . so? So did England, back in the time of the revolution. To quote Sparky the penguin, ARGH, MY HEAD IS GOING TO EXPLODE! I can't believe she wants to be a lawyer. Wednesday, March 29, 2006 [link] 08:26 p.m. listening to: nothing I miss Mills. Being around students from other schools lets me know how really, really lucky I am to be at Mills. Sure, it's not a prestigious school or anything, but I fit in with the people there. The women at Mills aren't outlandishly WASPy. The women are Mills are smart and bold and beautiful and geeky and fun. The people I'm meeting here don't know anything outside of their own little upper middle-class, academic bubbles. I miss being able to geek about comic books and television shows. I miss playing music on my computer while people dance on my bed. I miss brunch conversations that go from Brendan Fraser's ass to American foreign policy to masturbation. I miss working out in the morning with friends. I think I'm ready to go home, guys. Shit, I love London, but I damn do I wish I had someone from home here with me. Monday, March 27, 2006 [link] 05:37 p.m. listening to: nothing Happy birthday to me! By which I mean, my birthday was yesterday. I spent most of it in Stockholm, Sweden. The thing about Stockholm is that it doesn't really have anything that's immediately famous, unlike Rome or Paris. When you go to Rome, you already know what you're going to see: the Ancient City, the Sistine Chapel, St. Peter's Basilica, etc. Same for Paris. Stockholm, though. . . what's in Stockholm? Well, Stockholm is extremely cold. There was snow on the ground in late March, and parts of the bay/lake/whatever the city is situated on were frozen. Stockholm has some nice little museums that are totally free, wherein you can learn about the history of Stockholm and the history of Swedish design. They're very big on Swedish design. Must be that whole IKEA thing. The biggest thing about Stockholm, however, must be the food. We went to the Blue Door, which is this old-fashioned Swedish restaurant and bar that was absolutely PACKED. We had picked herring (surprisingly delicious!), fried herring stuffed with salmon (divine!) and moose meatballs (holy crap there has to be a way to get moose in the States!). Unfortunately, Sweden--Stockholm, at least--is expensive. It cost us 299 kronas to get from Vasteras (our airport) to Stockholm and back, which is about £15. Which is reasonable when you consider that it also cost us £15 to get from central London to Luton airport and back, but then you try to convert it to dollars and have a heart attack. All the prices--43 krona for a drink, for instance--seem reasonable when converted into pounds, but don't try to convert them into euros or dollars or you'll give yourself an aneurysm. Interestingly enough, Swedish alcohol is government-controlled. The grocery stores stock beer and such, but you can only get hard liquor from a government-controlled liquor store that's only open for very limited hours on Saturdays and not at all on Snudays. Apparently it's to keep the Swedes from boozing themselves to death. Friday, March 24, 2006 [link] 10:43 a.m. listening to: nothing Pretty boring week. Nothing to report overall. Just work and some class. Last night was my birthday dinner night. I went to dinner with two of the people in my program that I've sort of become friends with. Kate actually brought me a present, which was sweet of her; I hadn't really been expecting anything in the way of presents. She said it was really uncreative, but she bought me a really nice leatherbound journal (convenient, since I'm running out of room in the notebook I brought from home and I dislike writing in the notebooks I actually use for taking notes) and some reporter's pads. Ha. But I guess that made Chen Chen feel bad about not getting me anything, so afterward, when we went into an imported foods grocery store, she bought me a box of biscuits. It was kind of tacky because she said to me when we went in, "Let me know if you see anything for under a pound, because I don't want to break my twenty." So, yeah. A box of biscuits for under a pound. Thanks. The professor for my class is sick and didn't come in today, so we had an hour-long lecture from the guest speaker, turned in our campaign proposals, and left. Hurrah! I love today. And later today it's off to Sweden! I'm not sure what there is to do in Sweden, but I'm sure we'll find something. Sunday, March 19, 2006 [link] 07:05 p.m. listening to: mp3 player on shuffle Nothing really new to report. There's one person here who irritates me immensely, but to talk about the many, many ways she makes me want to punch her in the face several times would take far too much time and space, and I have a PR campaign to pull out of my ass. It's due on Friday and I haven't started yet, and I'm sure I will have many, many problems and questions for the instructor. Sigh. I went to Oxford and Blenheim on Saturday! Blenheim was kind of boring; I wish we'd gotten more time in Oxford! There wasn't really time to see anything; I managed to go to the Natural History Museum, and that was about it. I shall have to return there. And take the person who irritates me immensely with me, because she seriously needs to get out. And since I am clearly masochistic or maybe just feel pity towards the criminally stupid, I am going to drag her to Oxford. Unless she doesn't want to come. Whatever. I seriously don't like her. Wednesday, March 15, 2006 [link] 12:17 p.m. listening to: nothing Yesterday at work I ate massive amounts of cake, drank champagne, and then went to a gay bar where I drank a lot and didn't have to pay for any of it. Oh yeah. You so envy my job. Except for the part where I don't get paid, I guess. But I get cake! And free alcohol! Sunday, March 12, 2006 [link] 04:55 p.m. listening to: random stuff on the mp3 player So apparently there are family members who read this thing. . . . uh. Hi? I knew there were disadvantages to this whole blogging thing. Okay, here. Basically, I am going to pretend that family members are not reading this. I am going to continue as if nothing has happened. And you will, uh, not bring up my blog in conversation. Okay? Okay. (Of course, if family members aren't reading this thing, then I just went through this for nothing. But hey, I won't notice the difference. Hopefully. Anyway.) Tuesday, March 7, 2006 [link] 03:17 p.m. listening to: "Better" - Jonathan Coulton I have started doing things like eating raw spinach leaves as a snack. Oh God. That's it. I've turned into a health hippie. Or a rabbit. Also, I haven't written an actual article in so long that I've forgotten what it feels like. I'm staring at a blank document with three words on it right now. Sunday, March 5, 2006 [link] 06:17 p.m. listening to: nothing Well, I've been sending emails to pitas asking for help with my archive page to no avail, and meanwhile my blog was getting a bit long in the tooth. Google cache was of no help, and neither was the Wayback Machine, which had last cached my page in January 2005. Finally, I decided to simply archive and see if that would fix the problem--after saving my index page just in case it didn't, of course. But it did! The archives are back in business. Thank goodness. |
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